


Darkest Side of Me

by comavampure



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Companion on Earth, Cullen in modern world, Cullen on Earth, Dark Comedy, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Humor, Insert in Thedas, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Male-Female Friendship, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Thedosian on Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comavampure/pseuds/comavampure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Temple of Sacred Ashes to Earth, Commander Cullen Rutherford ends up misplaced while fighting a Greater Terror Demon and finds himself in the presence and care of a high functioning heroin addict. There will be angst, humor, fluff and some eventual steamy smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wayward Son

**9:41 Dragon**

**Temple of Sacred Ashes**

The march to the Breach began at dawn.  Each step deafened around the path up to the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  Soldiers were tense and the veteran mages sent ahead by Grand Enchanter Fiona were tense as they walked in line.  Everything depended on them. 

Cullen watched them, not because they were mages and he had been a Templar but because he knew what they were feeling.  The anticipation that everything depended on them.  They had a duty to help the Herald close the Breach.  There was no guarantee that it would work, no guarantee that the Breach would close. 

_Maker, I hope it works._

He should have fought for the Templar help harder, made the Herald see that too much magic into the mark could very well destroy them all.  _But_ he couldn’t blame the Herald for opting for the mages, for choosing to recruit them and take them on as allies.  The things he used to think of mages, did to mages… it was... is unforgivable. 

Of course there was the fact she was a mage herself but that was beside the point.  It was better to have mages who understood what they might be facing rather than Templars who would strike at anything and everything perceived as dangerous. 

If anything they did have the few Templars with him, armed with lyrium at the ready and instructed only to do as he or Cassandra commanded against the mages should they fall to any demon possessions. And there was also…

His fingers flitted over his belt where five bottles of lyrium were.  If all else fails he would drink and fight off whatever wayward magic there was.  It was purely a precaution should the worse happen.  Cassandra had suggested it but only if absolutely needed. He had agreed with her of course, take the necessary precautions and better to be prepared for the worse than not at all.

He turned his gaze toward the Seeker who was ahead with the Herald and Solas.  Their backs stiff.  At least he wasn’t the only one tense with the mission. 

It took hours to reach the Temple.  It was nearing noon but the Breach drew dark clouds that all but blocked the sun overhead.  That wasn’t going to stop them though. 

“We will have to open the Breach again and then seal it properly, as before.  But with the mages concentrating their magic into you, Lavellan.”  Solas spoke up as they grouped up to discuss their course of action. 

“Will that attract another Pride demon?” The Herald questioned, her ears perked up, wide slanted green eyes looked up at Solas with full confidence in his words.  Cullen frowned, wishing she looked to him like that.  He closed his eyes, gloves creaking as he gripped the pommel of his sword.

 _Now is not the time._  

Ellana Lavellan was a beautiful woman. She somehow managed to collect a wide array of individuals under her as Herald, knowing just what to say to each of them.  From a circle mage, to a Qunari spy, to a Grey Warden, a friend of red jenny, and even a Tevinter mage.  It was a miracle she managed to keep the peace and yet she managed. 

Her coy smiles thrown his way made his chest ache.  Until he learned she flirted with everyone.  Solas, the Iron Bull, Blackwall, Sera, even Josephine have all received her flirtatious advances.  Last he heard she was also seen as trading risqué barbs with Dorian. 

Cullen had almost thought that she might be interested in him.  He denied himself such desires for so long and then she came along and, it felt amazing to have that possibility.  Yet no, that was just how she was.  He couldn’t hate her.  She brought a smile to everyone she spoke to.  He swears even Scout Harding had a pep in her step every time the two conversed.

It would have been too presumptuous of him to think she would specifically come to care for him in a more intimate manner, to think of him as more than just a Commander.  He should count himself lucky to be considered her friend considering he is a Templar and she a mage.  Yes.  Count his blessings.

Cullen turned back to conversation. He had heard of the Pride demon that came through the Breach the first time the Herald tried to seal the Breach.  Hopefully there wouldn’t be a repeat. 

“I do not know.  But we should be prepared nonetheless.  I believe that is why the Commander and his forces are here?”  Solas shot to Cullen with all the seriousness of the situation. 

“Yes.  My men will stand back and only act should demons appear.  Otherwise, they will steer clear of the mages and what they need to do, offering them cover if necessary.” He explained as he signaled his men to stand back of the mages and spread around the Breach.   

“They are only here as a precaution.  We can never be too careful.”  Cassandra reminded him, her eyes drawn to his belt where the blue bottles shined.  He knew.  Only when she called for it would he draw on the lyrium, breaking his abstinence from the source of his Templar abilities.  But if the world depended on it, he would.  For the safety of Thedas, _he would_. 

 _I should._   He swallowed his doubts down. 

“Then let’s get this over with.  Josie and Varric have celebrations planned that I’d like to attend.”  Ellana smirked, trying to lighten the mood.  Solas chuckled, Cassandra gave a scoff and Cullen did feel a tad lighter but gave a grim nod. 

With the Herald in the center, Cassandra and Solas turned to the Mages. 

Ellana took steps closer and closer to the Breach.  It reacted to the mark on her hand, seeming to come alive, as if sensing her very presence. 

Cullen briefly wished to draw her back.  The Breach was dangerous but he didn’t, especially as she stood confident despite it.

“Mages!”  Cassandra called their attention.  They stood strong and focused, they stepped forward in unison, ready to serve.  There were four up on the wall and one in the clearing meant to show the others how to pool their mana and magic, to give the Herald their power.

“Focus past the Herald.  Let her will draw from you!”  Solas instructed, his staff raised to emphasize. 

The Breach cracked loudly, swirling around Ellana.  Her left hand lit up with the mark as she pushed forward, her staff in her right hand, gripped tightly. 

Cullen tensed, feeling the magic in the air grow heavy.  He didn’t like this.  The mage in the clearing raised their staff and struck the ground, acting as conductor of mana and magic.  The other mages followed suit. 

He sensed the magic rushing, pulling and yanking at the fade and he wanted to stop it.  His teeth grit as he quelled his Templar instincts and turned to watch, his sword pulled and shield raised prematurely.  He wanted to be ready. 

The rolling thunder from the breach was typical.  The occasional crack of lightning was too.  What wasn’t normal was the rain, followed by a crack of lightning that hit the ground just as the Herald tried to close the Breach.   Her head whipped back to look at the lightning scorch mark that barely missed her. 

Solas took a step forward cautiously, as did Cullen.  “Ellana!”  They called but she ignored both and thrust her hand upward to seal the Breach. 

Lightning crashed down, intercepting the flow of the mark.  There was a deafening silence.  Cullen could hear nothing briefly and then a flash as the chaos surrounded him.  A rift opened, right next to the Breach and poured out demons.  Bubbling fade crystals with black ichor filled the clearing. 

Cullen lost sight of Ellana.  He couldn’t see her by the Breach anymore.  His eyes swept the clearing, spotting a darting blue wisp that he recognized as a Fade Step.  It stopped near a slumped over body, the red hair and staff letting him know it was Ellana.  Solas materialized and knelt by her, shield covering both of them,

“Commander!”  Cassandra called to him and he balked as he saw five great terrors manifest, howling up and screeching. 

 _At least it wasn’t a Pride Demon_ , he thought bitterly.   

He jumped into the fray, sword glancing the demons and keeping them away from the mages.  His shield barely managing to block one swipe, his sword plunging into one demon.  He moved with practiced ease and glanced off their bodies.  He barraged one away from a Mage that had slipped from the wall.  

“Stay behind.”  He barked and the mage had no problem staying behind him as he took the brunt of the attack.  He managed to kill two of the demons as Cassandra took another two. 

The Herald was barely able to stand on her own but Solas held her up, whispering to her while raising her hand to the rift. But her attempt failed as she cried out and yanked her hand back. 

“Herald!” Cassandra called out as the rift seemed to swell and expand.  The Breach reaching for the rift, tearing at it.  “You must close the rift!”

“Cassandra!  Let the Templars suppress it!”  He called out to her over the sound of the rain pelting down.  “She can’t even hold herself up!”

The roar of a storm made it even harder to hear but he gave Cassandra a hard stare.  He could do this.  He would do it, for the Inquisition.  She apologized with her eyes but nodded.

“Mages stand back!”  The Mages huddled back as he signaled for his Templars to group up.  “Templars!   Suppress the rift, make it weak enough for the herald to close before it grows!”  They were quick to down their lyrium, the swords and shields striking the ground as they concentrated on the rift.  There were barely a handful. 

Cullen stepped toward the rift, closer to it than he should but the closer he was the more effective.  His hand slipped to his belt and he shakily raised the lyrium potion to his lips. 

His months of withdrawal will be for naught the moment he let the lyrium past his lips.  All his suffering, the work he’s done to be free of it, to no longer be collared and no longer suffer it’s ill effects.  But then his eyes turned toward Ellana. 

_It would be worth it.  For Thedas, for the Inquisition and for her._

He tilted his head back and down the bottle’s contents.  The empty glass slipped back onto his belt as he felt his skin and blood come alive.  The power he held in his blood enhanced.  An all too familiar pull of the rift and he concentrated the purification toward it.  He slammed his shield and sword down to act as a conductor. 

_They will be successful._

The rift continued to expand. 

_I will become free of lyrium once again._

The rift thinned but grew more, reaching over the entire clearing. 

He took a deep breath and pushed all his power into suppressing the rift. His and the other Templar efforts roared in fervor as he heard them Chant of Light.  He joined his brothers in prayer, even as he saw a great storm in the rift, a swirling mass of clouds and flashes of lightning.  “Blessed are they who stand before…”

The storm in the rift parted and revealed buildings.  Cullen’s brows furrowed as he watched the buildings stretch high.  _Impossible!_ They reached far up into the sky, glittering lights along the large towers showed each window. The storm ravaged over the buildings and then the buildings were smaller, closer to the ground but still odd in shape. 

“…the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.”

Cullen leaned forward, his focus wanning as he watched the storm in the rift ravage the smaller buildings, tearing them apart.

“CULLEN!”

“Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just-“ the words fell from his lips as he whipped his head to see Ellana and then the great roar of the final greater terror had him plunging his sword toward the sound.  It was unfortunate however that the terror was on the other side of the rift. 

A burst of green light from Ellana’s left hand closed the rift, even as she shook from exhaustion. The rift sealed, sucking all noise out of the clearing.  A great clap of thunder rolled through the temple and then there was just the noise of the Breach and Ellana’s haggard breaths. 

“Is everyone alright?”  She moved forward.  Solas’s hands keeping her up. She looked around, checking on each of the Mages who stood and each of the Templars and soldiers who. 

“Commander?  Cullen?  CULLEN?”  Cassandra was running to the spot Cullen had stood last time she saw. 

Ellana looked to Cassandra and as realization dawned her face grew grey.  “CULLEN?!” She shrieked loudly with no sound or sight of the Commander. 

 

Cullen splashed into the mud.  The roar of the storm overhead was somehow louder and pelted him with rain.  His cloak was plastered to his armor and his under armor was not spared either.  He rose up quickly, his greaves digging into the mud made it difficult but he managed after a few attempts. 

A crack of lightning showed him his surroundings and none of it was familiar. There was grass, there were buildings and there was a wooden fence half caved in. 

A high pitched scream drew his attention and he turned to see the greater terror advancing on a woman who was crawling backward in the debris of what looked like a blown out home.  Wood but there were strange contraptions everywhere. 

The woman screeched and was struggling backward to get away. 

Cullen snapped himself out of his confusion and ran for the demon.  It was well within striking distance to the woman but was simply reaching for her, transfixed on her.  Cullen used his shield to bash the demon away from her.  His sword followed, cutting into its abdomen.  It didn’t fight him and instead reached for the woman again. 

“IT TOUCHED ME!”  The woman howled into the wind.  Lightning cracked just as he saw the demon’s claw become purple even as he dealt the killing blow.   

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!”  The woman kept yelling as the demon slumped into the mud.  He waited for it to begin dissipating but it merely lay there.  Black ichor pooling around it as that same purple light began to spread from its hand. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!”

He didn’t answer her, but dealt another blow to ensure the demon had died, no response.  Green lightning cracked drawing Cullen to the predicament at hand. 

He turned to the woman who was whimpering.  His eyes took in the landscape.  Buildings, many in similar states of destruction as the one he stood near.  Trees torn and laying between the fenced barriers, the storm clouds were dark and heavy and there were bursts of light nearby.  His first instinct was that it was magic but he felt nothing even as the lyrium thrummed beneath his skin.  His senses were alive and yet he felt nothing.  Not even the fade or the presence of the demon that had once been.  He could barely feel the Fade as well. 

“You… you… where did you come from?  You fell out of the sky… with that… thing.”  The woman voiced, struggling to stand.

“Out of the sky?”  He rounded on her.  “Where is the Breach?  Did you see the Breach?  How did I get here?!”  He pressed her and she yelped, hands raised defensively. 

“I don’t know!  You just came out of that green thing in the sky!” She sobbed. 

Panic set in and he pulled her hands away from her face.  “The green thing?  You mean the rift?”

“Call it whatever you want!”  She cried, visible tears in her eyes as she struggled.  Cullen started, realizing she was afraid of him.  He let her go and she stumbled away, running into the remains of the house and away from him.

He cursed and stomped into the muddy grounds.  “ELLANA!  CASSANDRA!?  SOLAS?!”  He yelled looking around.  “ELLANA?”  He roared into the sky.  He had to get back he needed to ensure she was okay.  _I have to get back to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been having this niggling idea in the back of my head for a while now, to write about addiction. I've never been addicted to anything but I have been the support system for those going sober before. The process is...trying but worth it. 
> 
> I wanted to write from the view point of the addict and what they might be going through. I have testimonies from friends and family members who were addicted to various drugs so I'm drawing from their experience (with their permission mind you). This is also why I'm writing from the 3rd POV instead of my typical 1st person because I didn't experience these things myself or anything even remotely similar and am describing it as an outsider (unless you count caffeine withdrawal when I stopped drinking caffeinated beverages!).
> 
> So the bulk of the story will be about addiction, the process of going sober, the trials of dealing with that along with the feeling of loss and displacement, both for Cullen and the OC.
> 
> If you are addicted to any drug I implore you, please _please_ get the help you need. If not for yourself then for those who care about you and those around you. There are many people who will help and support you on your way to sobriety. Be it from alcohol, to narcotics, to gambling, to even a food addiction. The effects of your addiction don't just hurt yourself but everyone around you. 
> 
> Okay. PSA over.
> 
> * * *
> 
> There were a few characters I could have chosen for this. But the story required someone from the DA verse to be withdrawing from Lyrium with a chance of relapse. Samson would have been my preferred character to drop to Earth but I don't remember him ever being anywhere near a rift. So it fell to the very much loved Commander Cullen. (I apologize for all the future Angst, Cullenites. But I must. ) I took artistic liberties in having him be present and shit fucking up when the Herald tries to close the Breach. 
> 
> There will be eventual romance, but as with my other "modern oc in thedas story" this will be a slow build and as such a slow burn as well. Probably not nearly as slow as Maker Have Mercy, but close enough that this will be a long project, if the outline I have thus far is any indication. 
> 
> Updates for this will be slower as I'm uncomfortable writing from the third person point of view and am trying to get used to it without it coming off as dry or stiff. So if I occasionally slip up and there is an "I" or a "my" in there, let me know. I have no beta reader for this so it's just me and my eyes looking over it so it's not nearly as polished as my other stuff. Anyway I will aim for roughly either every two weeks a new chapter or every month. I can't promise anything. 
> 
> A little special tidbit. Each chapter title will be either a song title or a reference to a song or a lyric in a song because music affects mood so deeply and one of my "testimonies" said music helped her recover from her addiction so I wanted to use music as a tool for the journey of this tale. I would like to note I am not picking songs that only I like but from every source. yes that means there will also be rap or country music, maybe even some euro trash or whatever they call it. Heck I'll probably find a way to include dubstep, despite my relative displeasure of it. If it fits the mood of the chapter or the lyrics have special meaning with what happens then it will be used. If you think of a song or lyric that more adequately fits a chapter than what I picked, I welcome the suggestion. 
> 
> So this first one, as cliche as it is, I picked _Carry on Wayward Son_ by _**Kansas**_. 
> 
> Anyway let me know what you think!


	2. Chasing the Dragon

**October 2012**

**Ambleton, NJ**

“Oh my god, you know when you said you were moving to New Jersey I thought you were fucking insane!”  Marisol rolled her eyes as she listened to Nancy over the phone.  She held it against her cheek as she yanked her gloves off in the cab and fished for her wallet.  Her destination creeping up.  “It’s not fucking fair Ro!  You told me…because it  _was_  you who told me that you moving to  _New Jersey_   wouldn’t mean anything. That it wouldn’t change.  And now…” 

Marisol tuned her friend out as she pressed mute.  “Just up there.” She told the cab driver as she held out a twenty.  The cab driver pointed to the house down the street.  The same one that’s become her personal hell the past few months.

“You Bobby Mendoza’s kid?”

She screwed her eyes shut.  There was no escaping people who had known her parents.  She swears they were in every fucking committee in town. Mari even remembers her mother attending every PTA meeting growing up. Everyone knew the Mendoza’s, they were either friends or friends of friends, received charity or help from her folks or some shit.   

“Yeah.” 

“Listen, Bobby did some work for me when I got into an accident.  Never charged me a single thing...” Marisol pressed her head to the back of the seat and closed her eyes, tuning the cabbie out now and listening to her friend.

“-Every time there is a big fucking party, you’ve got to work.  Or do something.  Why’d you even agree to move into your parent’s old place.”  Nancy yapped on drunkenly.  “It’s not like the place is huge or anything… And now I don’t even got my best friend here to hold my hair back when I puke-“ 

Marisol grit her teeth and turned back to the cabbie.

“-if you need anything, anything at all okay.  You just call me alright?  Bobby was a good friend, never took any cash from no one and he was such a big part of the community. What happened…I’m sorry for your loss.  I know you must hear that a lot-“

_No fucking shit.  Can you just shut the fuck up and take my money?!_

“-I’m going to blame you if I die of alcohol poisoning.  You’re supposed to be my friend.  And you – hic you can’t even fucking be here when I want.  You’re so far away.  Why you leave me Ro-ro?” Nancy had officially moved onto sad drunk.

“-Bobby was a good friend.  He was so proud of you when you moved to the city.  Said he missed you all the time.  I owe him my life.  My livelihood.  I wouldn’t still have this cab if it weren’t for him-“

Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her customer service smile on and sat up.  “Listen.  My father was a personal friend to many people.  A hero in my eyes growing up and he always told me, that I shouldn’t in good conscience not pay for services rendered.  You’ve brought me home in a timely manner and I have to thank you.  So please… let me honor my father’s morals by paying you…. Frank was it?”  She glanced at the picture where the cabbie’s license was on display. “So, thank you.  He was a good man but please just take the twenty.”  She held the bill out to the cabbie, insisting he take it.

The cab shook his head a smile spreading and Marisol knew what was coming next.

“You’re just like your father described you know.  He was so proud of you… I bet he’s smiling down at you-“ Frank the cabbie kept at it and Marisol could only smile at him, nod politely.  “But here… here’s my card.  I’m going to put my home number on it.  You’re living here all alone.  But just in case I live only a few blocks out.  So if you need anything.  A shoulder to cry on or you know you want to come over for dinner, my wife.  She makes an amazing tuna casserole. And hey, my son, he just got back from Iraq and he’s about your age, and you’re very pretty and you’re young. “

_Seriously?_

“Frank.  Look thank you.  Really.  I appreciate it.  But I just lost my parents and I’m away from the city from all my friends.  I just got divorced too, I’m really not in a position to be dating. But thank you.  Really.”  She smiled through her teeth at the cab driver.  “Have a good day though.”

“Yeah no problem.  But if you ever need anything-“ Frank insisted.

“I know.  I’ll call you.” Marisol smiled but held out the twenty again and she made eye contact with the cabbie.  He smiled sheepishly and took the bill.  “Keep the change.”  She said instinctively and quickly climbed out before he could go on another tirade of how just like her father she was.  She grabbed her bag and hurried up the driveway to the four bedroom ranch styled home that was her childhood home.

“Hey, be careful in the storm alright? After it passes I’ll come by to make sure you’re safe.  I hear it’s a category three now, so be safe!”  The cabbie called out to her. 

“I’ll be staying home all weekend anyway, but thank you!”   _Why the fuck  did I say that?_  Oversharing, she got that from her mother. 

 “-And you put me on fucking MUTE?  What the fuck kind of friend does that?  Certainly not best friends.  I mean how fucking ruuuude.  Hey hey… you yeah my fucking friend put me on mute and I’m dying here!  Yeah such a fucking bitch.  Oh my god… Mari… Mari that guy was hot, like yummy he’s still looking this way.  Are you even listening, you bitch?  So sorry Mari I think he likes it when I look angry?”

“Yeah I’m listening.  Bitch.  You’re not dying.  Christ you’re such a fucking drama queen.” Marisol shook her head as she pushed through the door. 

She’d never get used to seeing the remodeled living room and kitchen.  Kicking off her shoes at the door she dropped her bag.

“Oh I’m the bitch.  Yeah I’m the one that abandoned their best friend of five fucking years to go live off in the sticks of New Jersey.  I hope red necks flirt with you.” Marisol barked her laughter and Nancy giggled on the other end.   She moved around the house expertly avoiding looking at the family pictures that remained on the walls.

“I live in the suburbs, Nan.  Not the sticks.  It’s a nice safe neighborhood.” Marisol sighed as she opened her bag, her cheek pressed to the flip phone.  Her fingers enclosed around the baggie she had picked up.

“This sucks… I miss you Ro…it’s not fair.  I need advice on this hot guy.  Because he’s still looking at me and I know I look all mopey because you’re in a fucking Jersey.”

“Don’t call it that, you sound like Snooki.” Marisol entered her old bedroom that she turned into an office and turned on her work computer. 

“Oh my god!  So mean…  Rooo… move back to the city.  Come on, we can be roommates.”  Nancy whined.  The sound of clinking glass and then a door closing came through. 

“If we were roommates, we would kill each other after a week.  Tops.  No way could I handle your mess and spontaneous behavior in such close quarters.” She pulled a glass plate out and a small weight scale.  Her fingers working to separate the powder into small dosages.  There would be one dose for every six hours for a week and then she’d have to get more. 

“I know.  You run such a tight schedule too.  I barely could convince you to go out when we lived on opposite ends of the city. Ro…I love you. You know that?”  Nancy croaked. 

“Nancy… you okay?”  There was silence on the other end and then the sound of a sigh and streaming.  “Are you pissing on the phone with me?”

“Yeah… I have to pee.”

“I fucking knew it.  You’re so weird.  Telling me you love me while you’re taking a dump.”

“I’m not shitting! So mean!  I had a lot to drink.  God!” The sound of flushing came through and then washing.  “I think my buzz is gone, because I just remembered how much I hate you.”  The reply was snippy. 

“Uh-huh.  Or you want to go fuck that hot guy.  Is he Ryan Reynolds hot or Steve Buscemi hot?” Marisol smirked as she put away each dose into its own dime bag.

“That was one time! Ugh that totally killed my lady boner!” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m still gonna fuck him-“

“You’re still gonna fuck him.” 

The two broke into laughter.  “Make sure to use a condom! Have fun Nancy.”

“I always use a condom.  Goodnight, have fun working Ro-ro.”  The phone went dead and Marisol sighed, preparing her glass pipe.  Her eyes flicked up to check the time.   _Not yet._  

She instead got up and called takeout for the fourth time that week.  It’d be here in thirty minutes.  Enough time for her to start work early and take her fifteen minutes early.   _More money._   She logged into the computer, running the programs needed and before long, calls were coming.

“Thank you for calling Customer Service, can you please enter your shipping number?” Marisol watched the numbers come on screen.  Her eyes becoming dead and glassy as she switched to work mode.   _Thirty minutes, stick to the schedule._

When her takeout came she typed a message to her supervisor about her taking a quick break to answer the door and brought the bag into the room.  She pulled out one container of food and a plastic fork then sat back at her desk. 

 _Eat before you smoke._   Marisol followed her rules, ensuring she didn’t fuck up.  Control was tantamount. Once the last noodle slurped down, she eyed the clock.  _Another five minutes._   She took another call. 

Finally she took her receiver off the line to make it seem like she was on a call and then picked up the prepared pyrex glass pipe.  She used her lighter and watched as the black tar heroin in the pipe became smoky and then she inhaled. 

Heroin was a downer, it brought her down from her high, from her anger but it also chilled her out enough to remain calm, collected and pleasant.  It made things easier to enjoy, like work, which she normally fucking hated.  But who has worked in Customer Service and said they loved their job?  Not her.  But they didn’t all do drugs. 

She wasn’t a junkie.  She didn’t use needles.  She smoked it.  It got into her system faster and was safer in terms of less cross contamination of needles so she wouldn’t get a blood disease for using old or someone else’s needles.  No HIV for her, thank you.

Marisol set the used pipe down, leaning back against her chair and riding out the waves crashing over her.   _A waste._   She frowned as she pulled away the tube and set it down. Marisol wouldn’t smoke with others anymore, even though it was more efficient, especially if you’re smoking it instead of injecting it.  But she wouldn’t share.  Alone she had the control, and wouldn’t be goaded into more than she should have. 

She went back to work, occasionally nibbling on a fried noodle. 

After five hours she took another break.  Her feet slapping against the linoleum as she poured herself a ginger ale and winced as she took a sip. She hated ginger ale.  She turned on the television and watched the news.   _Superstorm Sandy, state of emergency declared.  Blah blah.  All this fuss_.  She remembers Irene, there was so much fuss and in the end there was just a bit of flooding and delays on the Path because of it. 

But when Irene hit, she’d been in NYC and her parents were still alive, living here where she was now living. 

Huffing, she flipped over to the cartoon network and watched whatever nonsensical anime was on and laid down on the couch.  Her mother would have a fit if she knew she had removed the plastic coverings and had her feet up on the couch.   _Good._   She scowled and drifted off to nap. 

She woke up in time for her next dose and to return to work.  She could feel herself getting drowsy. 

A loud bleep from her computer nearly had her drop her headset but she eyed her messaging software and forced a grin even though no one could see her.

< **SuperVisorJeanS** >  Hey, how’s da storm?

< **MendingMendoza** >  Not 2 bad.  So far  just rainin.  Windy tho.

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > k.  lmk.  Ginger lost power so she’s out.  Redirecting her calls to you.

She groaned.  She hated working customer service but you try finding a job as a college drop out.  She rubbed her face tiredly. 

< **MendingMendoza** >  overtime?

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > yeah sorry.  I need the back up.

< **MendingMendoza** >  Okay. 

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Keep me posted tho.  I mean it.  That storm is getting bad.  Reminds me of katrina.

< **MendingMendoza** > K.  If I cut out, it’s probably the storm.

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Now that just sounds like ur planning something. <.<

< **MendingMendoza** > I’d never!  How rood. ;)

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Ha.  You got my beeper right?

< **MendingMendoza** > Gawd, so paranoid yeah.  I got it. 

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > K.

Marisol closed out of the chat and typed up the shipping label for some woman in Texas, where it wasn't storming but apparently she was too lazy to do it herself.   _Stupid…lazy Americans._  She scowled at her countrymen but did her job quickly. 

There was a burst of light outside her window and she yelped. 

“Excuse me, what did you say?”  The drawling voice over the phone asked and Marisol asked her to remain on hold, pressing hold before the Texan could protest.  Standing up, she looked out her window and eyed the blown transformer.  That couldn’t be good. 

The clouds in the sky were darker and there was lightning and thunder. 

< **MendingMendoza** > FYI.  A transformer blew up outside my house.

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > was it Optimus?

< **MendingMendoza** >  _nerd_.  half of the block is out of power. 

Marisol sat back and took a picture, sending it to her supervisor.

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Man your grid system in NJ is fucking weird.

< **MendingMendoza** > I kno.  But hey I still got power.  For no.

< **MendingMendoza** >  for now*  

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Don’t say that!  So ominous!

< **MendingMendoza** > 2spooky4u?

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > YA!  Leaving me with all dem calls!

< **SuperVisorJeanS** > Keep me posted still.

< **MendingMendoza** > Mkay.

Marisol opened up Solitaire when she didn’t get any calls and played games.  The blinking hold light of her phone let her know that Texan woman was still on hold.  She yawned, eying the line and grinned cruelly.   _She can wait a bit more_. Marisol took a quick break and grabbed more ginger ale.

She was just sitting down when the lights flickered. 

< **MendingMendoza** > Lights flickered. 

 ** _SuperVisorJeanS_  ** _is typing…_

Marisol watched for Jean’s response but it just kept saying she was typing.  She frowned and moved her mouse.  It didn’t respond.   _What?_

She pulled her phone out and went to type just as a crack in the sky went off and every electronic in her room flared.  They were too bright and suddenly everything went dead around her. All the while she was screaming.  “FUCK COCK SHIT FUCK STUPID FUCKING STORM!  AGGGGHHH!” She growled and moved out of the room the moment her eyes adjusted to the dark. 

She could barely make out the shapes of her furniture past the occasional lightning that lit up her path.  “Where the fuck did ma keep the flashlights?”  She moved to the kitchen and opened up drawer after drawer and using the lightning to find the flashlight and then turned it on.   “Of fucking course!”

It was dead.  She rubbed her temples as another loud crack sounded. Marisol stepped up to the window and peered out of the house. 

The clouds in the sky were dark and the wind was pushing some of the trees to near bending.  “That can’t be good.”

A crashing sound had her turning and lightning was striking her backyard, tearing up the grass and setting fire to the sole tree in the back.  “Shit…”  She rushed to get the fire extinguisher, not knowing if it would help but was thrown back as an explosion of light and wind yanked her kitchen in half, sending debris and appliance everywhere. 

Lightning, not just any lightning,  _green lightning_  filled the sky and then there was a lot of green, like a hole in the atmosphere only closer the ground.

For a brief moment she thought she saw a cyclone, a twister of sorts filled to the brim with more green lightning and it had flying buildings encircling it slowly.   _What the fuck._

The green hole became bigger as more lightning struck it and then she saw two figures fall through from it, as though from the sky.  One was shiny and further away but the other was closer to her and as it rose it was tall and there was something so very  _wrong_ about it.

The green light disappeared but lightning kept coming and then she got a better look at the  _thing_  that was heading straight for her.  It had ten… no twenty eyes and was ambling to her.  She screeched at the top of her lungs and managed to get up but the debris around her caused her to crash back down, her feet tangling in loose wires. 

It was reaching for her.  Then it was toppling to the side.  The other figure, he was a man, tall, blond with a fucking shield and a sword in his hand.  She screamed unintelligibly and moved back, uncaring of the broken glass no doubt slicing her feet up but she felt a claw grip her feet and yank her back, undoing her scrambling. 

“IT TOUCHED ME!” She kicked off the claw as the man with the sword killed it, watching as it stopped moving.  Her heart was pounding in her ears.  “OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?”  

She rubbed at her foot, rubbing away the feeling of its claws as the man did turns looking around. The storm was still howling, and if possible felt like it was getting worse to her.  “You… you… where did you come from?  You fell out of the sky… with that… thing.”

“Out of the sky?”  He rounded on her.  His face wild and searching terrified, worried.  “Where is the Breach?  Did you see the Breach?  How did I get here?!”  He pressed her and she yelped, hands raised defensively, worried he might hit her. 

“I don’t know!  You just came out of that green thing in the sky!” She sobbed. 

He gripped her arms, his metal gloves digging into her skin, hurting her.  She yelped and tried to pull away. “The green thing?  You mean the rift?”

“Call it whatever you want!” She sobbed and he seemed to come to his senses and let her go.  She didn’t waste any time in running from him.  Her feet ached but she ran into her living room and then her room as the man’s voice boomed into the stormy night, shouting names she didn’t know or cared about.  “What the fuck just happened?”  She limped into her bathroom and locked it.  Effectively keeping herself in and the crazy swordsman out. 

She needed a dose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chasing the Dragon is a commonly used term for those who smoke Heroin because of the white smoke that emits. So, naturally it's referenced in quite a bit of Pop Culture. For this song, I also chose it for the tongue in cheek humor of Dragon aka Dragon Age. So yeah. But to stick with the song theme, this one will have to be [Beetlebum by Blur ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAXnqjUfal4) which offers and alternative to "Chasing the Dragon."


	3. Look Outside

His voice grew weak as time wore on, his shouts and yells quieted with his exhaustion, turning into mumbled prayers that rose in volume with his desperation. Yet only the storm had answered his calls but they were dangerous and not what he wanted, not what he needed. There was rolling thunder and flashes of lightning yet no hint of the rift that had brought him here, wherever  _here_  was.

The Commander collapsed to his knees having worn himself out checking every facet of his surroundings for any possible indication of magic. Yet short of the residual magic in the air and the terror demon's corpse, there was no other source.

Speaking of, his eyes swerved to the demon whose body was still there. An anomaly, one he was not accustomed to. Every fade demon that has ever manifested and consequently killed would simply fade away upon expiry. Perhaps some would leave black ichor or demonic essence but all would simply break apart within seconds, minutes at most. It has been… Maker he didn't know how long it has been since he fell here.

Perhaps this was the fade? It would explain why the corpse was still present. It had no other place to go. But no. Even without the lyrium coursing through his veins, he'd be able to know if it were the fade.

He covered his face with his gauntlet covered hands, the cold wet metal sharpening his senses. A chill seeped into his bones that was made worse by the near frigid cold water down pouring from the very heavens. Heavens, which he was assuredly unfamiliar with, for as the worse of the storm began to pass, he could not recognize the few stars he saw between the clouds.

"…all things in this world are finite. What one man gains, another has lost. Those who steal from their brothers and sisters, do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind. Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart." Cullen recited from memory the entirety of Transfigurations with conviction, taking solace in the familiar words, even as the lyrium rushed through him.

"Hey!"

Cullen turned sharply, too distracted to have noticed the woman had returned. In her hand a strange sort of lantern that flashed brightly at him. He raised an arm to block it as he rose, sword dragging across the debris laden ground.

"Fuck… you're real. Holy fuck…" The woman swore as her lantern lit up the demon's corpse and she swore a lengthy bit, turning around and away. "Fuck…  _fuck_ … shit fuck what the  _fuck_."

The light flashed up and Cullen looked around once again. Perhaps the rift had displaced him? Similar to how Ellana- the Herald had been displaced in time. Yes. That would make sense. The Breach was unpredictable and combined with too much power...he  _had_  been right. It could have destroyed them all, but it instead displaced him. Yes. He could be in the Imperium or perhaps in Rivain, or Maker help him even further North.

"My apologies." He rose, aware he had acted brusquely toward her. He went to sheath his sword but the woman held up a strange black metal device in her hand, pointed at him. Cullen eyed the woman, her eyes defensive as he slowly slid his sword into its sheath. Whatever the woman held, she apparently thought it a weapon if she wielded it protectively like that. Her posture tense, shoulders stiff.

He didn't recognize the device, nor did he recognize his surroundings. But he took necessary precaution anyway. His Templar training coming to him.  _If you do not recognize it, it is probably wayward magic. But be sure of it before acting._  Knight Commander Greagoir had instilled so many lessons into him.

"Don't fucking move." The woman shook the device and he stopped moving at her request. Her lantern briefly pointed toward the demon and she cringed. "What… what is that thing?" She stepped forward tentatively, her gaze flicking to him every so often.

"It's a demon." Surely she had heard of those? Was she so lucky to never have encountered one before?

"A what?" She pointed the lantern directly at him and the Commander cringed. "Sorry…" The lantern pointed down. "Is it dead?"

"Yes."

"Shit. Fuck I can't…" She raised her device and hands to her head, pressing both, mussing her drenched hair up and baring her teeth. Her eyes screwed shut.

The biting wind made Cullen aware of the puffs of their warm breath in the air. He suppressed a shiver.

"What kingdom are we in?" Cullen asked evenly, ensuring he posed no threat. Her eyes turned to him.

"Kingdom?" She leant forward and then gave a greatly forced laugh, her shoulders shaking and her eyes insincere. Cullen's jaw tightened at her. "You fell out of the sky and you're asking me… _me_ , what  _kingdom_  we're in! HA!" She continued to laugh bitterly, her hands flailed wildly.

"Yes. I would like to know where I am so that I may return home. So  _please_ tell me. Where in Thedas am I?" Cullen seethed toward her.

"Hate to break it to you but there hasn't been a  _kingdom_  on these lands…ever." She gave a cruel smile. "And what the heck is a Thedas?"

Cullen froze as he let her words sink in. The possibility of being in the Fade became that much more preferable to where ever here was. He once again took stock of the strange devices and debris surrounding him. The woman before him was dressed oddly. Even though her accent was similar to Western Free Marcher, there was something off about it too.

"Where am I?" Cullen snapped once her laughter died down. He stepped toward her and she tensed, her grip on the device became tighter.

"Sor-Sorry! That was mean… just…  _stay_  there." She stuttered. A cold realization hit Cullen. She was  _afraid_  of him. Despite her cruel laughter, her trepidation was near obvious. She kept him at a distance and always in her sights. Cullen fought to keep the effects of lyrium controlled. He was well aware that they made many a Templar emboldened, but he would not let himself bully this woman. She was no mage and even if she were, it would be wrong to do so. He's learned that much.

"I'm not going to hurt you." That was the wrong thing to say, especially as her arm shook keeping the lantern aimed at him. He could barely see that her eyes widened in terror.

"Everyone that ever says that, typically follows it up with actually  _hurting_  me." She seethed.

"I apologize for my… earlier behavior…" His eyes were drawn to where there were bruises already beginning to form where he had grabbed her in his haste. "…but I promise you I will not harm you. My duties have always been to protect against demons and wayward magic." Cullen and the woman stared at each other, the seconds stretched between them, even as the bursts of wind sent them shivering.  _This cold was nothing compared to Haven._

She swore under her breath and glowered at him. "I fucking believe you, but don't make me regret it." The woman eyed his sword and shield tentatively but she pointed with her lantern at the demon again. "Okay… um… Thanks for… killing that thing and protecting me. Even though you don't even know who I am but… I'm going to need your help." A pause. "Again…"

"Help?"

* * *

Cullen hefted the muddy dirt with the shovel. He controlled his labored breathing as best he could but it has been sometime since he dug a latrine. Though that was not what he was digging this hole for, no this one was to bury the body of the demon. The woman, whose name he did not know, had pleaded with him to bury it. She had been fearful of men in black suits and Shades, that they would come and question her, taker her belongings and livelihood if any came to investigate the corpse.

Shades As in demons. And men in black suits? He knew what she meant. Blood mages. So there was magic. Only he did not wish to deal with blood magic. Memories of Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall still haunted him, despite knowing the mages had been desperate. That didn't excuse them from what they did to him.

The Commander took a steadying breath and leaned on the shovel. The labored breaths of the woman beside him were louder. She refused to let him do all the digging and had placed her small metal device away upon him removing his armor, sword and shield as well. A mutual understanding that they would not attack each other.

It was easier to move with his armor off and made the work of digging that much faster but the woman, she was clearly unused to such manual labor but she put in her effort, albeit frantically.

"Perhaps you should rest." He voiced loud enough for her to hear. The rain had long since stopped and the silence of the world around them was deafening.

"I know, I just- we need to bury it first." Her voice shook and she grunted in pain, her hands shaking as she turned to him.

Her pupils dilated in the night but a sallow look to her face plus her shaking gave him pause. Was she ill?

"Is this not deep enough?" He looked down where they stood. They had been digging for some time now, standing in six feet deep hole, six feet in length but only four feet wide, roughly.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Her voice shook and she tossed her shovel out, clambering out. Cullen also climbed out, but set aside the shovel. His own hand shook, but he ignored it, knowing it was coming. The consequences of lyrium use, he was all too familiar with. It will be easier to manage the symptoms the second time, he hoped.

They had wrapped the demon in what looked to be a blue oil cloth and tied it off by her insistence. Cullen wasn't familiar with burial rites, they always set their dead to the pyre to ensure darkspawn and demons didn't reach the corpses. She pulled the wrapped corpse into the hole, Cullen stepped up to help. She flinched away from him however and he froze.

"Sorry…" She muttered but he did not blame her for her reaction. "Shit... the sun is rising.  _Fuck_ …we have to hurry."

"Why?" But he grabbed the shovel to fill the now corpse filled hole.

"See those other houses. People are going to come out soon. Examine the damage left by the storm. And if I know my neighbors, which unfortunately I do, they'll come looking here as well, to check on me." She huffed as she frantically shoveled the mud. Cullen picked up the pace as well. The strain in his back a welcome distraction from the thirst in his throat that he knew would be unquenchable by any liquid save for the lyrium bottles he had left with his gear.

They were nearly done and the sun had already been up for quite a bit, warming his chilled skin.

"Marisol!" There was a faint pounding and the woman jolted, tripping over herself. Cullen barely caught the shovel she tossed his way.

"Sorry… just keep going… I'll deal with this." Her nervous energy was worrisome, especially as her eyes remained dilated even in the morning sun. So her name was Marisol.

This… place he was in, wherever here was. It was peculiar. The fence and trees looked similar yes but there was a distinct smell in the air. Foul and disgusting, but he chalked it up to a nearby outhouse. Considering the density in which the houses were built, he did not doubt that.

The houses were brightly painted reds, blues, whites and yellows and had windows with clear, uncolored glass. He had never seen glass used in place of windows outside of the Chantry and even then they depicted scenes from the chant. Yet here, here they were clear and looked right out into the world and there were many, some even as wide and tall as doorways.

 _Nobles_ , Cullen shook his head and returned to the task at hand.

He came to the conclusion, that even if he had let the "men in black suits and Shades" come, they would not help him. No the only ones who would, or rather should, would be the ones on the other side of the Breach. Cullen had faith the Inquisition would search for him. Cassandra alone would fight tooth and nail to have him returned and Ellana… she would do the same.

They  _would_  come for him. He had faith they will find a way to open the rift again and come for him, here. The Inquisition will not fail him. Yes. He just had to be patient. He took a steadying breath, resolving the nervous energy and dread inside of him.

Cullen grabbed the shovels once finished and set them against the small supply shed the woman, Marisol, had retrieved them from. He was filthy, mud covered and his thin cotton under armor clothes clung to him as they were still wet from the rain.

The warming air was accompanied by a brisk wind and he wondered if he might ask the woman, Marisol for a cloth to dry himself with. He did not know her, it is true but he will need her help. Especially if he is to wait for the Herald. It shouldn't be too long.

Cullen stepped toward the doorway Marisol had used and entered. The room he entered had a large wooden table with chairs, a dining table. His examination was cut short as he stepped further in and heard a distinctly elder woman's voice.

"You're soaked to the bone! You'll catch a cold, do you still keep the towels in the hallway cupboard?"

"Yes… Mrs. Robbins please. I'm fine. I'm just tired… I didn't sleep-"

"Course you didn't. What with the storm having blown your kitchen wide open! Oh your father would be right miffed about this. Don't worry dear, Nathan will be by to check your electrical, make sure it's safe. Now… oh!"

Cullen froze at the single open doorway as a woman stepped into his field of vision. Her stark white hair and dark skin with dark brown kind eyes made him think of Mother Giselle, except this woman wore a large fur cloak and had every appearance of a Noblewoman but in trousers. There was a softness to her that eased his concerns.

"You didn't tell me you had a  _guest_."

"I- what I…"

"And what a time to have a guest. You're just as soaked! Marisol dear, what nonsense is this. You've not been a very good host. Come here, boy."

"Mrs. Robbins…" Marisol came into view, her haggard appearance that much worse as her face pinched in annoyance and Cullen was approached. The elder woman's gloved hand dragging him into the hallway without delay.

"Ma'am…" Cullen tried to pull away but he was swallowed up as soft clothes were thrown at him and covered him. Her hands worked to dry him.

"There, now finishing drying yourself. I can only imagine how terribly cold you must be. Marisol dear, you too." The woman commanded. Cullen didn't fight it as he would prefer to be dry. But the woman simply took charge in a way that made him think of Cassandra, although this Mrs. Robbins certainly had a better disposition.

"Now the power is completely out in the entire city, so you're going to have some cold nights. Sandy did a number on the east coast, Nathan was listening to the radio all morning. Do you have emergency supplies?"

Cullen listened to the exchange, the odd words giving him pause but he dried himself, feeling the warmth returned to his skin. These cloths were far softer than he thought possible for just wiping yourself dry.

"I-I… don't know. Whatever my father might have left…" Marisol's voice faltered to his left and then she took a deep breath. "Mrs. Robbins, I'll be fine. I know there must be other neighbors with worse situations."

"Oh, you're right. The Hill house… poor things. Their tree was ripped right out and took out damn near half their house. Thank the lord it missed Marie's room."

Cullen pulled the cloth off in time to catch Marisol's face become even more pallid. "Is Marie alright? Did she get her equipment?"

"They have spares in the guest bedroom so they're fine. Frank and Nathan were over helping set up the generator." Mrs. Robbins had led them down the hallway toward what looked to be a sitting room that was connected by a wall to the kitchen, if he heard it right.

What Noble house had their kitchens connected that closely to their sitting room? Cullen shook his head.

"That's good. If… if she needs any toys, I've got some of my old ones." Marisol's voice took on a softer kinder note.

"Alright dear. That's very kind of you. Now… who is your guest?"

They both turned to him.

"Oh this is… uh this is my friend."

"I'm Cullen." He offered, seeing her struggle and she sent a grateful look his way.

"Oh! You're British! I hadn't realized."

"No, I'm Fe-"

"Yes! This is his first time in America." He was interrupted before he could correct the elder woman. Marisol stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He came to visit… we… we work for the same company and he thought it'd be great to visit the states. You know, in time for the holidays. You know… a proper Thanksgiving… see the tree in New York…all that tourist trap stuff."

"Oh... well I'm sorry your vacation has started up so poorly." Mrs. Robbins turned apologetic eyes to him.

Cullen eyed Marisolwho looked to him pleadingly. "Yes…. The storm did put a damper on my…vacation." He said evenly. He was uncomfortable lying to such a kind woman.

"Ah well, hopefully some Ambleton hospitality will do you good. New Jersey's not so bad. I'll let you two get collected. Marisol, make sure you take pictures for your insurance before Nathan heads over." The woman was ushered out by Marisol who closed the door after the elderly woman with a heavy sigh.

"Marisol?" Cullen stepped forward questioningly. "We should talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to separate the introduction chapter into each of it's own chapters. So that I keep up with consistency.
> 
>  
> 
> [Look Outside by IAMX](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTHvZiGPGHw)
> 
>  
> 
> Please tell me if you think the way I'm thus far portraying Cullen is crap. I'd like to know. I wanted him to be logical, hopeful but also knowing he's way out of his element almost instantly because A) he's got lyrium rushing through him right now, so he knows this is definitely not Thedas and B) he's aware of the consequences of his having restarted his lyrium and is keeping a mental check of himself so the withdrawal doesn't hit him as hard. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. I'm really reluctant about this story but I have about... 2/3 of it already outlined and I kinda want to see where this goes.


End file.
